


Can you hold me?

by Abi_snail



Category: Mortal Kombat - All Media Types
Genre: Body Image, Budding Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mortal Kombat, Panic Attacks, Scars, Touch-Starved, strykabal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:47:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22895884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abi_snail/pseuds/Abi_snail
Summary: Touch starved Kabal. Kurtis to the rescue.
Relationships: Kabal/Kurtis Stryker
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	Can you hold me?

**Author's Note:**

> Kabal is my baby angel and he needs all the love! 
> 
> (not really set in any specific timeline, just something that was bouncing around in my head for a while)
> 
> Comments are greatly appreciated ❤️

He was touch starved.

That really wasn't a shock to anyone who had eyes. He wasn't always that way. There was a time touch came as naturally as breathing, when people lined up to be under him, feeling, tasting...

It seemed like such a distant past, it stung in his chest like a perfectly thrown fist. The once honey sweet memories of beds not his own, of hands and lips pressing against his strong body desperately trying to leave a mark on every inch of him they could have for as long as he offered it.

Now they tasted bitter like pills too hard to swallow and he choked on them more than he'd ever admit.

Catching glimpses of himself brought thoughts of just ending it far too often. The physical pain had long since dulled, now it was his mind. His body was scarred but still strong, still able, still his.

His mind was a prison though, thick bars holding onto the past and refusing to un-clench its fists, to just fucking let go for a moment of peace.

He'd lay in bed, eyes locked on nothing wondering how long it would be before anyone even found his body. He wouldn't leave a mess, he'd just be gone.

He wasn't one to quit, he didn't want to back down from a fight, but sometimes, sometimes it was just too fucking much.

He couldn't remember what it felt like to have a hand in his, to have someone wrapped around him, pulling, holding...

Still he stayed. He may have been in pain but he was stubborn as a fucking mule. A blessing and a curse.

He hid himself, kept clothes too baggy, kept his mask on though he knew he didn't actually need it to breathe, kept hoods pulled up.  
He was a freak, a monster, the thing nightmares were made of and he didn't want to force that image on anyone.

The good guys, the ones he now surrounded himself with and fought for would gather and he'd always manage to keep himself in the back, able to hear and offer thoughts and strategies, but never where anyone would even have to accidentally touch him.

No one questioned it, never said a single thing or asked him to come closer. That was fine, it was easier this way.

Some would offer to sit with him during meals, but he declined, the mask had to be removed and he didn't have the heart to watch others break, he didn't have the stomach to see pity flash across their faces.

Everything he should have done with others, he stayed alone and it did nothing for the state of his mind. It seemed to crack a bit more every day and he wondered just how long he could continue.

The cold realization of just how starved he was came crashing like stormy waves on the rocks at the end of a fight of all places.

He was tired, sore and filthy, struggling to pull in full breaths as he laid on his back, the same place he'd landed not too long ago. He'd been thrown hard and just hadn't found the will to peel himself off the ground.

Stryker walked over quickly, holding his hand out.

"You ok?"

Kabal stayed silent, staring at the hand longer than he should have, thankful Stryker couldn't see where his eyes were glued behind the mask.

He grunted, something like an affirmative hoping he'd just walk away. 

Of course not.

The former SWAT member leaned down and grabbed hold of Kabal's gloved hand, pulling him to stand, not letting go even when the other man was up on his feet.

He felt the warmth even through the gloves and everything in his body froze. He tensed so fast it made him dizzy, and little shivers ran down his spine but he was sure Stryker felt it, felt how intensely Kabal was reacting.

Blue eyes searched for any sign of injury but he couldn't see through the layers Kabal hid his body under. A firm hand gripping his shoulder had Kabal nearly falling to his knees, begging for more or for mercy he wasn't sure...

"Are you alright? You seem...off. Were you hurt?"

He couldn't speak, all focus on that hand that had yet to move. He shook his head, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought against the tremors wrecking his entire form. He was more grateful to his mask in that moment then he had been in a long time.

Stryker never looked away, never backed off like everyone else would have.

"I-I'm fine. Really."

Damn his voice for sounding so broken, so absolutely wrecked. He hoped Stryker just played it off that it was because of the fight, he prayed he wouldn't look to much into it.

But like always, his pleas landed on deaf ears and Stryker only moved further into his space.

"Come on, lets get out of this shithole and get you checked out, yeah?"

A heavily muscled arm wrapped tight around his shoulders and tugged him into a strong, warm side. The desperate sound that climbed its way from deep in his chest didn't go unheard, his knees failing under the weight of the touch and the words spoken so gently and unassuming beside him....

"Kabal?" Stryker looked down, directly into where he knew Kabal's eyes were behind the mask. His eyes seemed to say that he got it, that he knew just how lost Kabal had been. "It's ok."

He felt the pinprick stings in his eyes and he bit into his tongue until he had to swallow down blood and words he didn't dare say.

Stryker took a step forward, careful to not drag Kabal along. He waited patiently until the other man's limbs unlocked and he shuffled along beside him, head hanging down, small trembles still coursing through him enough that Stryker felt each and every one as if they were his own.

Climbing into the truck with the SF was a bit of a challenge as Stryker had no intentions of letting go of Kabal...and Kabal still didn't seem to think his legs actually worked.

He still had his arm firmly around Kabal's shoulders as they moved to the back of the truck, sitting closer than strictly needed. Their thighs pressed tight, ribs pressed close to count the breaths the other drew.  
Each time the truck shifted and bounced, Kabal would whimper so quietly it was easy for Stryker to believe he was simply imaging things, but Kabal's breathing would change, become ragged and almost panicked.

Stryker simply tightened his grip.

The longer they drove, the heavier Kabal's head seemed to become and he fought to keep himself upright, but he was losing the fight quickly.

He was tired, still aching, and the warmth of another body holding onto him after so long was leaving him overwhelmed, an exposed nerve that kept being pressed.

Stryker shifted subtly, all but pulling Kabal to rest against his shoulder without it being too obvious.

"Almost there."

Kabal lost himself for a long moment. Stryker was warm, strong, sure in everything he did. Kabal breathed deep, taking everything he was given, so afraid it would be ripped away before he could even fully appreciate it.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so safe. 

Stryker still had his arm around him, a shield, nothing would get to him so long as he stayed right where he was. 

Stryker seemed to possess mind reading abilities as he held on just a little tighter, pulled Kabal just a little closer.

He didn't want the ride to end, terrified it would break whatever spell had fallen over them, terrified to leave the arms he found himself in.

The truck stopped and it slapped him across the face with its suddenness. Dread seeped into his veins, froze his blood, and cut his heart.

He pulled away, sitting too straight and tense beside Stryker.

The arm pulled away from his shoulders and Kabal closed his eyes, the instant feeling of loss too much to handle.

A hand slid easily into his and he was pulled to his feet. 

Stryker smiled a little. "Come on."

He followed easily, he'd follow anywhere Stryker wanted to lead as long as that hand didn't leave his.

"Need to see a medic?"

He shook his head. He'd been hurt worse, nothing was broken, just bruises.He just needed a shower and his bed.

Stryker kept leading him down the hall and Kabal realized he planned to take him all the way to his bedroom.

"Wait!"

Stryker jumped at the suddenness of the command. "What's wrong?"

"You should go get checked out."

"Why?" Stryker cocked his head. "I wasn't hurt."

"But..." Every excuse was dying on his lips. "You probably need sleep..."

The blond just smiled and kept walking, his fingers tightening around Kabal's.

The door to his room never seemed ominous before, but suddenly it was the most terrifying thing he'd ever seen.

Stryker waited, seeming to understand the panic rushing through Kabal in that moment. He stood quiet and sure, hand firmly in place around Kabal's.

He looked like he wanted to run, to bolt as fast as he could in the opposite direction, and that just wouldn't do.

"Kabal."

"You can leave, I told you I'm fine. Really it's-"

"Kabal."

"It's not a big deal, I just need to pass out and it'll be fine in the morning-"

"Kabal!"

Kabal's head snapped up, he looked straight into Stryker's eyes, finding nothing but concern and something else too gentle and breathtaking that Kabal needed to look away and forget that he ever saw it at all.

"It's ok."

"You don't have to do this. I...I'm used to being alone."

Pain crossed Stryker's face and Kabal wanted to swallow his tongue. Ever the fuck up, he was glad some things were never going to change.

Stryker shoved down his emotions as he reached out and took the key from Kabal's pocket. "Well that just won't do."

Stryker walked in like he belonged there, pulling Kabal behind him. The door shutting and locking sounded too loud, the clicking of the lock bouncing around Kabal's brain.

Kabal stood motionless in front of the door, not sure what to do. Stryker didn't seem to have the same problem, he moved back into Kabal's space easily and slid his hands under the first layer, a jacket that hung loosely over the body beneath it.

It slid down his arms, pooling on the floor with a quiet sound that made Kabal's heart race. The fingers tugging at the zipper of the hoodie that came next had him swallowing so loud he knew Stryker heard.

"You want me to stop you just have to say something. I won't push, but I wanna help."

Kabal closed his eyes again as the zipper was opened and that layer of clothing was also pushed down to the floor.

"Arms up." Stryker told him gently as his fingers toyed with the hem of the long sleeve shirt.

Kabal shook but did as he was told, still refusing to watch Stryker's face. His bare arms were exposed now and he didn't want to see the kindness turn to disgust.

His arms fell quickly and he tried to fold them behind his back, to keep hiding as long as he could, but warm hands caught his wrists and pulled them back to his sides. 

"Don't do that." Gentle thumbs rubbed over racing pulse points in Kabal's wrists. 

"It's-you don't have to look."

The hands left his wrists to cup the sides of his neck that were uncovered by the mask and his shirts now. His fingers teased lightly along the back of his neck and Kabal couldn't stop the full body shudder.

"I want to, if you'll let me, I want to."

Those warm, skilled hands slid from shoulders, to waist, to hips until the tugged up that shirt as well. Kabal stood in pants and a fitted tank top, more exposed than he'd been in so long. He could feel Stryker's eyes but he still didn't dare open his own to watch the way Stryker looked at him.

"One more, you ok with that?"

How was he supposed to say no? They'd already come so far. He nodded once, quickly before he could change his mind.

Stryker made quick work of the last shirt and slightly stepped back. Kabal braced himself for the door to fly open and for Stryker to make his escape.

When it didn't happen he glanced at Stryker finally.

The eyes on him were sad, almost tear bright, but there was anger there too and Kabal wasn't sure who it was meant for. He sank back slightly, closer to the door.

When he was wrapped tight in both of Stryker's arms he gasped and stumbled, his bare chest pounding hard against Stryker's still clothed one.

He didn't speak, just held Kabal quietly for what felt like an eternity, one hand in his hair and the other tight against his back. Kabal's hands shook as he reached up to return the gesture, only making it to Stryker's hips.

It was too much, he rested his head on Stryker's shoulder and if a few tears fell no one needed to know.

He didn't know how long they stood there, he didn't care either. He'd happily stay there as long as Stryker kept him there. All he could think about were those strong arms holding him like he actually mattered.

Stryker sighed as he pulled back just enough to look down at Kabal.

"Can you..." He hesitated for the first time, he didn't want to push too much but... "Can you take your mask off?"

Kabal flinched and tried to pull away but Stryker still held him.

"It's alright Kabal." He could see the obvious panic and it broke his heart. "I'm not going anywhere. Listen to me, I'm right here. Please, it's just us."

 _Us_. The word slammed into his chest and Kabal bit into his lip and struggled to keep himself rooted right where he was. He couldn't show just how badly he'd been dying to hear that simple word for so long, been dying for there to be an _us_ at all.

Kabal's hands were still on Stryker's hips and his fingers dug in a little.

Stryker smiled. "If you don't want to let go, I can unhook your mask for you if that's ok?"

He kept his eyes locked on his hands sitting on strong hips and nodded his head.

Fingers moved gently, moving his hair away from the buckles that Kabal's fingers knew so well. Stryker was more careful, more gentle than Kabal had ever been with himself.

He paused once the buckles were open, he didn't just pull it off completely, he gave Kabal a moment to change his mind, to turn his back and forget all of this.

When he didn't move, Stryker pulled it away from the face he'd wanted to see so badly.

Kabal wouldn't meet his eyes and it gave him time to look, to take everything in, to know the man before him better than anyone else had ever been able to.

The scars weren't nearly as bad as he was expecting. The ones along his jaw were the most prominent, but he was beautiful, so beautiful that Stryker wanted toss the mask in a pit so it could never hide Kabal again. 

The fear rolling off of Kabal was thick and Stryker gently lifted his face until he locked his whiskey brown eyes with Stryker's blue.

"I'm sorry..." Kabal whispered.

Stryker kissed the words away. Chaste, allowing room to be pushed away. Kabal sucked in a hard breath, a small whimper along with it, before leaning in, chasing Stryker's lips desperately.  
His thumbs traced the thickest of the scars along his jaw before moving to kiss the trails they left. Kabal's head fell back against the door, still holding tightly onto Stryker's hips.

He took advantage of the position and kissed down to his neck, then to his shoulders, devouring the sounds and tremors he was able to draw from Kabal, sounds he'd cherish as long as he lived.

He'd long admired Kabal for his skill, for his strength and speed, his ability to continue on even after such a trauma.

But to be able to see see him so fully, to touch and taste and hold...he never thought he'd see the day but he'd thank the gods until his last breath.

He moved back up to Kabal's mouth. Smiling into the kiss as Kabal pulled him closer.

He felt shaking hands reach up to his chest, fingers teasing at the buttons, silently asking for permission.

"Go ahead." He mumbled against the lips he simply couldn't get enough of.

His shirt was off before he knew it and he sighed happily when bare skin met bare skin.

He wanted, more than anything he wanted but he knew he was here to take care of Kabal. There would be time for everything else after.

"Shower."

Kabal blinked a few times, not sure what Stryker was talking about. The reminder of the dirt, and sweat, and blood made him cringe. 

He nodded and once again let Stryker take the lead.

The bathroom felt too small with the two of them in there but Kabal wouldn't have had it any other way. He was pressed tight to the blond as he bent to get the water ready.

Emboldened by how Stryker had been treating him, he let his hands move to Stryker's belt buckle, tugging slightly to ask permission before moving forward.

Stryker rested his hand on Kabal's before nodding his consent. Kabal made quick work of the buckle and the button and zipper after that. His hands found hips again and pushed the pants away, fighting to keep the blush from being so obvious.

Stryker didn't seem to mind. He closed the space, pressing close and kissing Kabal like he could do it for the rest of his life.

Kabal's pants followed quickly and he had to step back for a moment, the feeling of so much skin against him feeling too overwhelming. His head was swimming and he felt like he was floating away.

His back hit the door hard and he couldn't seem to get his breathing under control. The room spun and he couldn't hear the words Stryker was saying. The blood was rushing too loudly in his ears and he wanted to throw up, wanted to escape from something but he didn't know from what.

His hands clawed at the floor, nails digging fruitlessly into the tile.

Stryker moved him until his back was pressed against Stryker's broad chest. He wrapped his arms around Kabal, his grip almost too tight. Kabal only panicked more.

"I know." Stryker soothed. "Just hold on for me. Lean back into me."

Kabal shook his head frantically, the arms felt too much like a cage.

"It'll pass in a minute. Breathe with me."

Breathing would be great.

He tried to stop focusing on feeling trapped and listened to the deep, even breaths Stryker was pulling in. He could feel his heart beating against his back, steady and strong. Kabal grabbed hold of one of Stryker's wrists and held on as hard as he could.

Eventually the need to run started to die, his vision was still blurred and he couldn't quite stop his breaths from hitching and hurting his chest but the intense panic was fading.

Stryker kissed his shoulder. "That's better, keep breathing for me."

When it finally felt like he was back in his body he was mortified.

"Stry-"

"Shh, lets get cleaned up ok? Then we can get into bed." He kissed Kabal’s shoulder again before standing, taking Kabal with him.

He was too worn down to argue. He knew he'd ruined everything, this was it. As soon as Kabal was asleep, Stryker would slip away and it'd be another memory to choke on.

The water was warm, quickly slipping into cool territory after the panic attack. Stryker insisted on being the one to wash away the day from Kabal's skin. He was careful, gentle like he always seemed to be. He seemed to really enjoy washing Kabal's hair and he wasn't going to complain. When this all decided to crash and burn, that was a memory he wanted to hold on to.

Stryker made quick work of cleaning himself off, still managing to keep some part of him pressed into Kabal all the while.

Reaching for a towel, it was quickly plucked from Kabal’s hand, Stryker once again insisting he be the one to do it. Kabal still shook, he blamed it on the chill and the panic attack but he knew most of it came from the look in Stryker’s eyes and the way his hands moved along Kabal’s body.

“Ready to get some sleep?”

Kabal shifted slightly. “I need to um…” His eyes flashed to the sink where the bottles of moisturizers sat, something annoying but so important because of the severity of his burns. He wasn’t sure why _this_ of all things had him blushing.

Once again he felt like a freak, a disgusting monster that didn’t deserve to be touched so softly.

Stryker nodded. “Of course.”

He grabbed one easily holding it up, asking if it was the right one. Kabal nodded, eyes wide. Why was he doing this?

The lotion was cold but Stryker’s hands made it so much better, he didn’t miss a single inch of skin, taking his time on the thick scars that covered him so completely. 

He wanted to know them, the know which ran deepest, which were more sensitive than others, not for exploitation of course, but because they were part of Kabal and he intended to know every single inch of the man. He wanted to know what hurt, where he needed to be softer, he wanted to know what spots sent shivers running down his spine, had him baring his throat.

He pressed a quick kiss to Kabal’s lips once he was finished, smiling softly as he took Kabal’s hand and tugged him toward the bedroom. 

It was presumptuous to think Kabal wanted him there but until he heard the words, he wasn’t leaving.

“Do you normally wear anything to sleep?”

The exhaustion was catching up to him and he sagged slightly beside Stryker. And yes, normally he did, he’d get his softest sweats hoping they would offer some kind of comfort and security as he laid alone in the blankets that never seemed to get warm enough around him.

But if Stryker really did plan to stay, he didn’t want anything in the way. But…if Stryker was about to get him into bed so he could make a break for it…

“No, no I’m fine like this.”

Stryker smiled and nodded before pulling Kabal closer to the bed, shoving his shoulders gently until he sat on the edge.

Blue eyes looked down at him, studying him and his position. He squirmed under the gaze, he didn’t know what Stryker wanted him to do. Something he was once so good at, now he felt like a child, lost and unsure.

“Y-you don’t have to stay…”

Stryker froze, flinched back as if Kabal had struck him. “I-do you want me to leave?”

Kabal shrugged. “Not up to me. If you want to go, I understand.”

Stryker sank to his knees to look into those eyes, the color quickly becoming his favorite. “I don’t want to go anywhere. If you really want me gone, I’ll go but, if the choice is mine, I’m staying with you.”

He couldn't look away from those blue eyes, the ones that seemed to say so fucking much all at once, that made Kabal feel like he was drowning in the ocean in the best possible way, no pain, no fear, just peace.

Stryker was watching him, head cocked, thumb gently tracing along the long, thick scar across Kabal’s knee. He was waiting for a response, an answer as to if he should leave or not. The thought of watching him head to the door, of hearing it close and blocking him off from this man ripped at his heart.

“I don’t want you to leave.” He spoke the words so quietly he wondered if Stryker even heard him at all.

Stryker exhaled, as if he had been holding his breath, bracing for rejection. “Then I won’t.”

Kabal pushed himself up the bed, back against the headboard as he waited for Stryker to join him on the other side. 

Stryker laid flat on his back and Kabal followed suit after clicking the light off. Their arms pressed close, the warmth was nice and if that’s all he got, Kabal was more than happy with that.

Stryker apparently wasn’t.

“Come over here.”

Any protest he had died in his throat when Stryker grabbed him and manhandled him until one leg was thrown across Stryker’s and Kabal’s head was on his chest tucked up under his chin. Pinning him to the bed, he should have felt in control but he didn’t, his head spun and when those arms locked back around him and a kiss was pressed to his hair, he could have sobbed.

“Comfy?”

Understatement of the century. The sound of Stryker’s heart beating steadily in his ear was already dragging him off to sleep, so much easier than it usually came to him.

He still couldn’t fully relax though, knowing he’d wake to a cold bed the next morning, alone again only this time so much worse after what Stryker had given him.

“What are you thinking about?”

He didn’t want to answer, didn’t want reality to come crashing in on him. But the sound of Stryker’s voice, the slight pleading to be let in, he couldn’t deny him.

“Just waiting for the other shoe to drop.” He admitted, his words muffled by the skin of Stryker’s neck.

“Why?”

“This doesn’t happen for me…not anymore.”

Stryker hummed tightening his arms around Kabal. “Finally got you, I’m not going anywhere.”

Kabal wanted to question. _finally_? What did he mean by that, but Stryker’s fingers were scratching little circles along the back of his neck, sliding up into his hair and he couldn’t remember how to make words work.

His eyes closed and he pressed closer, breathing in a scent that was pure Stryker. Every part of him relaxed, being held so close, so tight, if everything ended around them, Kabal would go out happily.

“Get some sleep, I’ll be here.”

The promise sat heavy on his chest threatening to suffocate him under it, but he still held on to it as hard as he could, desperate for it to be truth.

A sliver of sunlight hitting his eyes woke him up. His heart pounded like thunder when he realized Stryker was still there, he was still holding Kabal even as he slept, he never once let go.

Kabal took a moment to study Stryker in the soft light of the early sun, he looked peaceful, happy as he rested with Kabal against him.

He had promised and he stayed true to it. Kabal laid his head back down, pressing a kiss to Stryker’s collarbone, silently thanking him for staying.

Stryker squeezed him and mumbled in his sleep, pressing his cheek against Kabal’s hair.

He closed his eyes and wondered, hoped more than anything, since Stryker had been true to his word and stayed there the whole night…

Maybe Kabal didn’t have to be alone anymore.


End file.
